


Forget the Horror Here

by especiallythezefronposter



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, General Ross is a piece of shit, Kissing, M/M, Poisoning, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sort of a fix-it, Tony and Bruce curse a lot, like a bit of a fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7030207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/especiallythezefronposter/pseuds/especiallythezefronposter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That Bruce isn't on Tony's side morally doesn't stop him from being by his side physically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget the Horror Here

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to miurt on Tumblr for reminding me that I love these nerds and was actually planning on writing something after I watched to movie.

‘Tony, you can’t just send out a drone to China if you want to have a chat with me,’ Bruce says as soon as Tony comes into view. He’s in the lab in Stark Tower, the one they used to share. It’s almost painful to look at him. He looks good, healthy despite the shadow of a black eye around his right eye and the obvious exhaustion in his shoulders.

Tony’s face is earnest where the drone is projecting it on the wall. They’ve called like this before, but not after the Accords. They haven’t talked at all since then. ‘Have you seen the news?’

Bruce’s exasperation fades, replaced only by a cold feeling in his chest. He’s in the guest bedroom of a house in eastern China, where he’s allowed to stay for the week. They only have Chinese channels on their TV, but his previous hosts had a laptop on which they let him check the news. ‘Yes.’

‘Well then?’, Tony asks, looking at something on the table in front of him, out of Bruce’s view. He reaches for it, fiddles with it and Bruce hates this, hates Tony looking nervous and ready to be hurt.

Bruce would take whatever it was out of Tony’s hands, if he was there with him, he would tell him everything is alright. ‘What do you want me to say?’  
‘What you’re thinking. Whatever. Pick a side.’ Tony glances up at him for only a moment. Bruce wonders what happened in the past weeks, what made Tony so sure that he’s the one who made all the mistakes in this.

‘I’m not going to pick a side.’

‘You have to.’

‘I’m a civilian. I’m not go–‘

‘You’re not, though. You wouldn’t be in China if you were. You wouldn’t be looking over your shoulder constantly because no one would be after you. You wouldn’t take meds during fucking thunderstorms because you wouldn’t be scared of them.’ 

Bruce wasn’t going to be angry, he wasn’t, but Tony wasn’t going to play dirty, either, and yet he did. Being reminded of your worst days by someone you trust, someone who helped you through them, is a unique kind of pain, one that turns Bruce’s skin hot, his mouth cold.

‘Do you want me to say what I’m thinking? I’m thinking that you’ve seen my fucking scars. I’m thinking that you know full well what happens when you sign over your life to General fucking Ross. I’m thinking that you knew fucking better.’ His heartbeat is going up. It doesn’t matter. This isn’t the kind of fight Hulk is interested in. Nothing is at stake but Bruce’s puny heart.

Tony smiles, a pained sickening thing. ‘Team Cap, then? They even have hashtags, if you want to make it public.’

‘This isn’t about picking fucking sides, Tony. This is about safety. I agree that we can’t just do whatever we want, but Ross and his bullshit accords aren’t the fucking solution. You’re – Fuck, Tony, I was seconds away from hulking out just knowing he came near you. He fucking owns you now. He controls you. But who controls him? Who’s going to keep him from doing to you what he did to me? Who’s going to keep him from doing shit to Natasha or Rhodes? And don’t say the UN. The UN hate us more than they worry about Ross’ sadism.’

Tony’s just standing there in the lab, hands empty, eyes shimmering. ‘Fuck,’ he says. ‘Fuck. Bruce, I fucking missed you. I’m so sorry. He won’t hurt them I promise. I promise I’ll protect Nat and Rhodey and even Cap’s merry band of misfits and his asshole boyfriend. Don’t worry. Don’t – I’m sorry I called you. I shouldn’t –‘ Abruptly, he goes quiet. For a moment he closes his eyes. He holds a fist in front of his mouth. ‘Time to go,’ he says, voice suddenly raspy.

Bruce is powerless at the other end of the line, hands balled into fists with nothing to hit. ‘Tony, don’t you fucking dare. I’ll hack you through this fucking drone if I have to. I’ll hack your entire tower. Don’t end the fucking call.’

‘Friday, paint it black.’ And like that, Tony disappears.

Bruce curses.

‘I’m still here,’ Tony says. He coughs. ‘I’m just – I just have a bit of a cold.’

Bruce catches on fast. Not fast enough. He should have seen this coming as soon as he read the news. ‘You’re coughing up blood. He’s poisoning you. Tony, fuck. If something happens to you I am going to tear the world apart.’

‘That’s so romantic.’ Tony’s voice sounds a little hoarse, now, fading. He coughs again.

Bruce wishes he could get closer to Tony, could be in the same room as him at least. ‘Tony you need to come over. You need to get out of there right now.’

‘I’m not allowed to.’

‘Go without the suit if you have to. You can’t stay there.’

‘The suit and I are –‘ He coughs again. He must have said that to Ross, _the suit and I are one_ , he always says that. And now Ross thinks of him as he does of Hulk and Bruce, who are one, too. And now he feels responsible, feels justified in weakening Tony, in protecting the world from him.

‘Please, Tony. How long will it take for you to get to Seoul? I can get there by tomorrow. I just need you to be there, too, okay?’

There is a long silence. A cough. ‘Okay.’

‘Are you scared?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you going to be okay, not now but one day? Are you going to live?’

‘Not now but one day,’ Tony says. He coughs, but he sounds like he’s smiling. ‘I’ll live. I’ll live if you keep inviting me to places with you.’

A silence falls. Bruce feels like he’s going to choke. ‘I know we weren’t really like that, but I want to hold you,’ he whispers.

‘Me, too. I want to fall asleep all wrapped around you. I think about it a lot.’

 

Bruce can only breathe again when Tony knocks on the hotel room door in Seoul, sixteen hours later. He looks small when Bruce opens the door, and even smaller when he stands close to Bruce and rests his forehead on Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce closes the door before he drags his fingers through Tony’s hair. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,’ he says.

Tony sinks a little against Bruce. ‘You’d stand with Cap anyway.’

‘I would, but I wouldn’t leave. I wouldn’t go anywhere when I know Ross is after you.’

‘You won’t go anywhere now? You won’t be gone tomorrow?’, Tony asks against Bruce’s shoulder, drawing circles with a finger on Bruce’s back.

Bruce presses his own lips against Tony’s shoulder, ashamed and guilty. ‘I won’t. I’m so sorry I left.’

Then, finally, Tony looks up and Bruce hurries to do the same. ‘I know we weren’t really like that, but I want to kiss you.’

Bruce almost smiles. ‘Me too. I think about it a lot,’ Bruce whispers.

Tony tilts up his head, is slow about pressing their lips together. Bruce puts his hands on the sides of Tony’s neck, puts one over Tony’s collar, his shoulder blades, his stomach, his hair. Tony has his hands clenched in Bruce’s shirt and kisses him like he’s breathing, like this is all the time and space that has been between them since they met, disappearing. Tony kisses him like this is never going to end. His mouth tastes of blood and spearmints, but it doesn’t matter.

They pull apart and Bruce says, ‘There are two beds,’ which is somehow the first thought to come back to him.

Tony laughs. Then he coughs. ‘We only need one.’

He drags Bruce to the bed by the window and kisses him once more before lying down, taking Bruce with him. Tony closes his eyes and makes a happy noise as he settles, repressing a cough.

Bruce strokes the frown that appears on Tony’s forehead away with his thumb. ‘Cough all you want. We’ll get you better tomorrow.’

Tony only nudges closer, entangling their legs, making a pillow out of Bruce’s chest. Bruce cradles his head in a hand, and strokes the other down his back.

‘We can fix this.’

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Spanish Sahara by Foals.


End file.
